


Repairs

by Decepticonsensual



Series: He Jests at Scars [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time was, Drift used to almost enjoy waking up in a hospital berth - it was the only form of comfort he ever got.  A lot of things have changed.  A few things haven't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repairs

**Author's Note:**

> For a request on Tumblr with the prompt "hospital".

For the briefest of kliks, Drift thought he was back in the Dead End clinic - the same curious sense of numb serenity washed through him as he realised he was waking up on a clean slab, with fresh medical grade coursing through his starving fuel lines, softly beeping machines around him, and a kind, worn, familiar face peering down into his.

Then the face said, “Frag me, you’re an idiot,” and the intervening four million years reasserted themselves, and Drift groaned, flinging an arm up over his optics.

Ratchet’s hands, though, were as gentle as they had once been on a young addict’s chemical-scorched plating, and he held Drift’s hand with one while examining his wounds with the other, even as he muttered to himself, “Fractured collar fairing, torn wheel, half your side dented up, internal leakage; that was completely -”

“AWESOME!” shouted a voice from the doorway, and suddenly Drift’s world was entirely filled with Rodimus, as the captain seemed to be dancing and hugging Drift and stealing his medical chart to read and evading Ratchet’s outraged attempts to grab him by the collar all at once.  “That weird squishy tentacle-beast-thing would have burned a hole in the shuttle in another klik; you saved the whole landing party.  I think Perceptor and Brainstorm nearly had a fistfight over who gets to repair your melted sword,” he finished, winking.

Drift suddenly registered the lack of weight at his right hip, and blurted out, “Perceptor!  I’m not sure I trust the ways Brainstorm would… enhance it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told them, mostly because Brainstorm was muttering about a blade that can literally split infinitives, or possibly infinities, when can he get out of here?”  Rodimus turned to Ratchet, and beamed innocently at the doctor’s transparent rage.

Drift shuttered his optics as Ratchet began shouting:  okay, so perhaps he still found waking up in hospital a little more comforting than he should, but it was nice to no longer dread the moment when they pronounced him healed.


End file.
